Unlikely Journey
by Sandwitch II
Summary: The wizarding world is back on its feet after being thrown into calamity and Cho is invested in seeing growth and change occur in time to prevent the next disaster. Draco is looking for any opportunity to salvage his place in a new world where the rules of the game have changed. Their unlikely and pragmatic solution could be the beginning or the end.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Breaking Ground

"Harry."

The Boy Who Lived was asleep at his desk in the Auror office, below his crossed arms lay a stack of parchment he was supposed to have signed off on and handed in two hours ago. The perpetually messy black hair that flopped over his scar and two day old robes he wore enhanced his worn out appearance.

She shook his shoulder, "Harry."

He started awake and blinked at her, "Cho." Reality began to register as he rubbed away the sleep, "I'll have that stuff done by five I promise."  
"It's nearly six-thirty Harry," she saw panic start to set in his eyes, "Don't worry I'll take it in the morning, you better get going."

He quickly started jamming his things into his rucksack, "First thing tomorrow I promise. Will you be there tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm as curious as everyone else," she admitted. The Malfoys' return to wizarding society was being celebrated with as much pomp and circumstance as a royal christening, "No one would ever guess that their exile was a punishment judging by the invitation."

Harry laughed, "That's the Malfoys' for you."

"I'll see you later," Cho massaged her temples as she walked out of the Auror office. She had spent a particularly grueling day sitting on the Wizengamot in lieu of the Secretary of the Auror Office, Gawain Robards. The elevator brought her down to the first floor where she exited out into the perennially gloomy London air. The walk to her flat gave her a chance to stretch her legs and observe normal muggle life, talking on cell phones, driving cars, talking on cell phones while driving cars; all completely unaware of the parallel universe operating in their midst. _Unaware for now,_ she mused.

Cho looked out over the Thames' murky waters as she crossed it; from what she had gathered Harry's team had finally cornered their quarry on a private boat in the river. This particular wizard had led them on a merry two-day long chase through London with stolen artifacts from the war memorial. She would be in charge of filing the reports for the department with the Wizengamot. A mostly thankless task, Aurors deplored paperwork of all kinds, she would be lucky if she received it all an hour before the filing deadline. Ever since she joined the Auror office after the battle its workplace efficiency had improved by leaps and bounds. Reports that had mysteriously disappeared were filed, signatures were collected and a precarious order had fallen. The greatest benefit to this occurred about a month after she'd set the office to rights, compensation had started to pour in. A steady trickle of overtime rewards had come through for all the paperwork she had filed which grabbed the attention of the haphazard office. Aurors looked over the tops of their pristine outboxes and realized that the tiny Ravenclaw who had joined their ranks was responsible. Cho was now a highly valued asset to their team and occupied a dear place in their hearts. She enjoyed working with them despite their rampant disregard for common sense; they were growing to be tight knit family after suffering the devastating losses of the Last Battle. More than half of the department had been there less than three years but the bonds formed in the aftermath were strong. It was ironically the least cutthroat department in the Ministry by her estimation.

The comforting red brick of her apartment building loomed over the street, her Muggle neighbor Mrs. Otto held the door for her and exchanged smiles. Cho liked living in Muggle London, she wouldn't trade it for a flat in Diagon Alley any day. It kept her out of the prying media atmosphere of most London wizarding communities. The apartment was small and magically cloaked

It took her less than half an hour to get ready and don her dark blue silk dress robes but she heard a tapping on her window. A small brown owl bearing Daily Prophet tags flew in and landed on her dresser holding out the leg bearing a note.

Sorry dear, had to Apparate directly, press has to be there 5 min early.

-M.

Cho sighed, she had been hoping to enter with her old friend Marietta but she knew she was going to be late. Resigned to this fact she spent time putting the finishing touches on her outfit and hair and put her bedroom back in order before heading out to her magically cloaked balcony to Apparate.

ooo

Lucius and Narcissa had asked that the Minister of Magic himself be present to officially reintegrate their family into the wizarding community but that was a request Shacklebolt felt entirely secure in denying. In order to cater to the appearance of good will he sent his undersecretary Percy Weasley instead and issued a Ministry wide memo that accepting the invitation to Malfoy Manor was encouraged for the sake of cordiality but it was neither mandatory nor forbidden. Those who attended were not disappointed; the new face of the Malfoy family was no less ostentatious. The deep mahogany floors gleamed and priceless artwork shone from every wall in golden frames. Food and drink veritably flowed from tables and fountains and a tasteful string quartet played elegant classical music.

"You'd think we would try for something a little humbler," mused Draco to Terence Higgs.

"I'm pretty sure this is as close as your parents get to being humble," Terrence countered, "this is probably the first time so many blood-traitors have seen the inside of the Hall." He would have added _without being bound and gagged_ but he thought better of it, he and Draco were more acquaintances than friends. It was best not to be on the bad side of the Malfoys no matter what their standing.

"They're all welcome now," Draco leaned against the railing of the gallery and watched the late guests enter, "Every one of them is a tiny bit of polish on the dirty family crest."

Again Terrence bit back a joke, this one about the Black family, "I'm hungry."

Draco scrutinized him, quite sure he knew what was running through his former housemate's mind, but he thought better of calling him out, his parents weren't the only Malfoys trying for humility.

They descended the staircase into the general hall where witches and wizards were milling around. Only a strong force of curiosity could have brought such a variety to the Manor. Their return signaled another step in the Recovery, if the Malfoys fell into line they would not be a rallying point for any of the old factions. So far they had accepted their punishments dutifully: a three year exile from wizarding society with the loss of wand privileges and Lucius was banned from Ministry grounds and under probation at the discretion of the Auror office, he would never receive a wand again. This was the punishment for most Death Eaters in the inner circle who survived and showed reform, there were not many.

ooo

"Please tell me why we're here again?" George murmured to Angelina as he saw Draco descend from his balcony post.

"Because you're my friend and this is important," she looked up at him through dark brown eyes, her argument didn't seem to be working, she tried another tack and whispered on tip-toes in his ear, "because afterwards we'll put fireworks in their fountain and drink firewhisky with our mates."

A troubled sigh escaped him but he grinned a little too, "You swear?"

"I swear," she grabbed his hand and led him over to the violinists.

He obliged by twirling her out on the mahogany floor, they had become comfortable friends, content in the knowledge that they didn't know what was next. She was more gorgeous than a Veela in his eyes tonight and she knew it. Quidditch kept her agile and lithe in her burgundy silk dress robes and her movements attracted attention from around the room. George pulled her a little closer and whispered, "I'm a lucky bastard aren't I?"

"You'd better believe it."

Other couples started to join them including Harry and Ginny and Ron and Hermione. He closed his eyes at the familiar click of camera shutters that had followed most Harry's movements throughout the night. He tried not to begrudge his friend and business partner's decision to join them. He felt bad for the nuisance his little sister had to endure in order to go on a proper date. _Some sort of portable Polyjuice Potion for Harry to use? Or a distraction? Something to black out media cameras?_ That idea made him smile, he was pretty sure Ginny would not appreciate Harry being in constant disguise. Sometimes he could find a way to incorporate interesting Muggle technology in his designs.

The music played out and the couples lost themselves in the company of their dates for a while until lead musician announced that they were all to gather in the middle hall for the official portion of the evening, George relented knowing Percy wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he skived but he kept a loose grasp of her hand.

ooo

Cho joined the crowd in the Hall as Percy and the Malfoys stood at the front, when there was general order Percy launched into a solemn recitation. He was most definitely the right man for the job, Cho knew for a fact that there was no official reintegration ceremony for wizard exiles but the crowd gathered there would not have guessed; by his delivery he had been making the speech since he was born.

"As we look to the future our community is strengthened by the bonds of unity and brotherhood. We uphold the just actions of our leaders and forbearers and strive to pursue dignity and honor in going forward…"

She caught George pretending to nod off on Angelina's shoulder, he winked at her and she smiled back. Mentally she shook her head at him, he pretended to be a rogue but at this point he was fooling no one. Seeing him did remind her of their appointment on Monday to go over Auror requisitions from the WWW line of protective magical devices, George promised her new gadgets for her teams that he was personally designing.

Her attention wandered back to the Malfoys where Percy was offering them each a final solemn handshake. She saw stiffness in Lucius' movements and a forced sincerity in Narcissa's. She could read Marietta's sub-header in tomorrow's Prophet already: A new day opened in wizarding England when a Weasley offered a Malfoy a handshake.

She maintained a close friendship with the reporter after their days at Hogwarts ended. It was beneficial because Marietta's sources often became leads that Cho could pass along to a discreet Auror. In Cho's eyes her actions at Hogwarts had been erased through continual loyalty.

The violins resumed their melodies and the guests dispersed throughout the hall. She spied an elf carrying a tray of stuffed mushrooms, she gave chase and was rewarded with the beginning of a delicious supper. The elf, wearing a green embroidered pillowcase, bowed and left her with a napkin and small plate. Cho thanked him and savored the small delicacy.

A minister whose name she could not recall smiled at her and said conspiratorially, "The real reason we came eh?" He had a plate piled high with the bounty of the Hall.

She returned a polite smile, "Of course," she stalled for time until she could remember his function, "what did you think of today's session?"

"Oh it's the same old fundamental argument," he began, "Should we allow for exceptions to Statute, how can we ensure the safety of our wizarding population. In my opinion the argument that Obliviating muggles against their will is unethical is utter rubbish, they don't remember it anyway!"

"Oh Ringwald, if you treat every ethics discussion as rubbish you'll send the entire Wizengamot back to the dark ages." Mortimer Abbott, a relatively younger Minister joined their discussion as he was passing by.

"I suppose you support it then ol' Morty?" his older colleague baited.

"I'm not willing to rule it out until I've heard both sides of the argument," Abbott returned, "Some people say the muggle world is waking up to us, that the Philosophy of the Mundane is not going to hold true in the wake of the Last Battle."

"I have to say that I agree our world's have a chance to come back together," Cho positioned, "The threat of witch-hunting and persecution has been long past for centuries. I'm not advocating a full on unveiling, but I think gently peeling back the Statute could be beneficial for both sides."

"Our entire way of life could be threatened, you young people don't understand the dangers of the muggle world," Ringwald's voice had started to rise and attract attention.

"Aren't there enough dangers in keeping the world's separate?" Cho reasoned, "So much effort is put into it with dubious results, and one day it's going to happen, why not find a way to have it happen peaceably?"

"It's not feasible for our communities to be reintroduced, there is too much precedent for the Statute," chimed in Arnold Peasgood a chief Obliviation Attendant.

Abbott, an exemplary Hufflepuff she remembered, grinned good-naturedly, "Not to mention that there wouldn't be much Obliviation work for you if it was repealed."

The joke fell naturally and immediately eased the rising tension in the group. The conversation slowly edged around the Statute and found a resting place in the old conservative standby, Quidditch regulation. Cho found herself drifting in and out of the conversation, curious as to what result they might have happened had Mortimer not stepped in.

"Sorry to have ruined your fun," he intoned to her as she continued eating her stuffed mushroom.

"Sorry?" she replied delicately, feigning ignorance.

"I didn't think this was the right moment to play Bait The Old Conservative," he gestured to Ringwald who was now wearing a rosy glow of contentment as he blustered on about broomstick grafting, "Your time will come though Ms. Chang, you're the most outspoken undersecretary to the Auror's office that I or the Wizengamot has ever seen."

She was about to deny it but then Mortimer's honesty begged a little quid pro quo, "I'm flattered, thank you."

He grinned, "I can't be the only one who's noticed, it was very strategic of Gawain to send you in his stead, I don't think I've ever seen him awake in his chair."

"He's always busy on cases," she demurred politely.

"Running around being an Auror," there was a small note of jealousy, "I don't blame him."

"He enjoys it a lot."

Mortimer seemed about to poke a little more fun at Gawain's expense but then caught himself, "I had better find the missus, if I leave her alone at one of these things for too long she starts planning ways to poison my pudding." He bid her farewell and slipped back into the crowd.

"That's probably an effect you have on most wives Ms. Chang, " Blaise Zabini drawled from behind her.

She turned to face him and his not of friends unsure of what to expect, "How long have you been saving that one Zabini?"

"It was just an observation," he held up his hands in defense, "it hurts me to see a beautiful woman alone."

"Be careful Blaise," she returned dryly, "that bleeding heart might drip on your leather shoes."

She took her leave and found Marietta waiting for her near the bust of a pointy chinned man in the frilliest dress robes she had ever seen, one of Malfoy's great grandfathers by the looks of it. "What was that about?" queried the slightly tipsy reporter.

"Someone who hasn't left schoolyard sniping behind," Cho replied.

"Ahh, is there any other kind?" Marietta replied sagely, "Are you alright?"

"I would be a sad Ravenclaw if I couldn't hold my own in a battle of wits."

Marietta smiled, "I've got so much of this to get down if I'm going to make the morning paper, I've also dispatched a photographer to hide out in the bushes because I've heard a rumor that _someone_ is going to set off fireworks in the fountain after hours."

Cho had to laugh at that, "I'd better go remind _someone_ to make sure he doesn't do any lasting damage, I don't want to write him up. And you are Flooing home, I don't want you to splinch yourself."

"Oh all right, later dear."

After she had extracted a mostly sober promise from George that the only damage would be the momentary rearrangement of Lucius Malfoy's facial features did she find herself ready to quit the Manor along with the rest of the guests. Her fireplace wasn't connected to the Floo and she generally preferred to walk off the grounds and Apparate.

London's night air rushed around her as she arrived bringing a variety of George had invited her to a Quidditch game at the Burrow over the weekend and dinner afterwards, which would be wonderful for relieving the built-up tension of work politics. She looked over at the picture on her night table, she and her sister with frozen smiles posing in their neighborhood park. Then pulling her Tornadoes comforter over her head she whispered, "Nox." The room went dark.

000

Welcome to the story, I'm glad you came, it's an idea I've played with a lot in my head and had many failed starts with writing this first chapter. I'm trying for something non-cliché, so feel free to let me know if it's committing any grievous sins. I'm also trying to be compliant (except for my obvious licenses of course ).


	2. Chapter 2

2. Plots Hatched

"Alright Hermione," Cho began reassuringly, "All you have to do is stay on the broom, we'll keep the Quaffle in play and it'll never get anywhere near the goal."

Hermione looked troubled, she had been drafted (slightly against her will) into a four on four Quidditch match. "Ron will be all the way on the other end," quipped Ginny, "So he can't distract you." Angelina gave her a reassuring pat on the back and then kicked off the ground into the empty clear blue sky. The girls were facing off Harry and three of the Weasley brothers, George, Ron and a reluctant Percy. Hermione pushed off the ground gingerly and drifted off towards the apple basket goal posts.

Ginny was up in the air with Angelina passing the Quaffle back and forth with comfortable speed and skill. Cho leapt onto her broom and soared into the brisk autumn air momentarily assuming a Seeker's bird's eye view of the makeshift pitch. The Burrow rose on her left like a tottering stack of school trunks beside the quaint little apple orchard. She could see about a mile radius of sleepy summertime village Ottery St. Catchpoole, slowly she spiraled down to her teammates.

Ginny tossed her the Quaffle, which she caught deftly in the crook of her arm, "I've been practicing."

"It's nice to know you Ravenclaws aren't shoddy about the groundwork skills of the game Chang," said Angelina with friendly rivalry.

"As long as you Gryffindors can hang on to the Quaffle."

"Oi, break it up!" George yelled from across the pitch, "we don't have time for girly little squabbles." It seemed that the boys had finally coaxed a shaky Percy onto his broom and they were ready.

Angelina and George conducted a swift game of rock, parchment, knife to decide who pitched the Quaffle and the game began.

The girls quickly noticed that Ron's goalkeeping skills were more erratic when he thought Hermione was going to fall off her broom. George had to roar at his brother to block a nearly perfect goal on his left.

Angelina cackled gleefully and snagged the Quaffle on the rebound, Hermione looked both apologetic and determined to stay on the broom. Harry swooped out of nowhere on a pass to Ginny and sped towards the girl's goal with the ball tucked under his arm. George whooped and sped ahead of him to receive it only to be roughly tackle-blocked by Ginny who was determined to protect Hermione. The Quaffle sailed out into empty space and Cho went for a deep dive to keep it in play.

She sped past Percy nearly causing his broom to spin, he reached out to steady it while she searched for a teammate to pass to. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Harry was catching up to her so Cho kept the Quaffle tucked in her arm and clung tightly to the broom to increase her speed. Angelina crossed her path with the speed of a bullet toward the right goalpost, she feinted to her and then as Ron focused on Angelina she put all her strength in beaning the Quaffle down the pitch into the left goalpost.

"FIRST GOAL!" there was a collective scream from the girls as the ball soared into the basket.

ooo

They entered the Burrow tired, sweaty and sore in every limb, Cho was fairly certain she had a bruise on her ribs from where she caught the Quaffle in a particularly risky leap.

"Hello dears," cheered Molly Weasley, the epitome of motherly grace, as they trooped in, "I've put your fresh clothes and a few towels upstairs, you girls can clean up a bit and I'll have supper on the table in twenty minutes." They thanked her and headed out of the kitchen.

George tried to snag a bit of pasta from the stove but his mother smacked him with a spoon, "You smell like a filthy garden gnome George Weasley, you won't get a bite until you've washed up!"

He pouted a little for show but then resignedly trooped up the stairs as the girls laughed.

She patted Ron and Harry on the shoulder absentmindedly as she stirred the sauce on the stove.

Percy greeted his mother with a careworn sigh, "Are you all right dear?" she asked her grown son.

"I managed to stay on the broom."

"Good for you sweetie."

When the Quidditch players returned to the kitchen they were greeted with a veritable feast of freshly prepared food.

"Mum I've never even seen half this food before," Ron exclaimed sitting down to the table with an expression of trepidation and awe mirrored by the rest.

Mrs. Weasley glowed, "I've been trying some new recipes, you'd be amazed what you can do when you haven't got seven children underfoot."

"We haven't been underfoot since Ginny started Hogwarts," said George sitting next to Angelina.

"Well I've been honing my skills, trying to figure out what the young people are into these days, there are so many interesting techniques I've learned."

Mr. Weasley joined them placing his hands on Molly's shoulders, "Your mother is thinking of opening up a restaurant."

Every single one of her red-headed children started talking at once Molly held up her hands, "It's just a thought! A dream I've been holding off on for a while."

"Restaurants are a lot of energy mum," Ron started flinging his hands wide, "you'll have to work like a house elf to get it off the ground." He must have realized his blunder when he caught the look on Hermione's face which mirrored the one in his mother's, "Which I would be entirely honored to help you with."

"Your mother is perfectly capable of figuring out what she can and cannot handle Ronald Weasley," Hermione replied frostily. George sniggered and Molly turned her gaze on him, "You had better finish everything on your plate George Fabian Weasley, and mind your manners." The two scolded Weasleys straightened up in their chairs sheepishly.

Ginny whispered to Harry, "Scary isn't it?" They shared a look.

"I'll try some of that salad Molly," Angelina said brightly in order to ease the tension.

"Here you are dear," Molly replied passing it over to her with a smile.

Harry joined in on the effort, "Hey do you guys remember when Hermione was trying to start S.P.E.W…"

ooo

"You know I'm impressed that you tried to start a welfare organization at the age of twelve," Cho told Hermione as they worked to clear the table.

Hermione smiled while she stacked the plates, "I just saw it and I couldn't ignore it, it wasn't really very successful. I had to bully most people into coming."

"I don't think I would have seen it even," Cho replied earnestly, "it's just one of those things that you get used to and doesn't really register."

"I've got a different perspective as a muggleborn; stuff that you're all used to is sometimes still foreign to me. While I know now that the Hogwarts house elves are in a safe environment that they enjoy I don't believe all house elves are anywhere near that lucky." Her brow was furrowed.

"And it's a perspective that I admire and cherish every minute I'm with you," said Ron coming up to them wearing yellow rubber washing gloves, "Can I take those for you two ladies?" He deftly swept away the plates from both their hands and carried them through to the kitchen.

Cho laughed but Hermione looked a little skeptical, "If I find out there is a chapter on doing chores to butter up women in that book I'm going to torture him slowly."

"What?"

Hermione shook her head, "This book he thinks I know nothing about: _12 Failsafe Ways to Charm Witches_ I found it in the linen cabinet a couple years ago. It's probably the only book I haven't read at first sight."

Cho burst out laughing, "You should read it, for entertainment value."

They traded smiles when Ron returned for the rest of the plates and Cho looked at her watch, "I've got to get going, I promised Amos and Martha I'd be over for tea since I'm in the neighborhood."

Molly overheard this and after she had piled Cho's arms with food to take along she summoned Percy, "Walk Cho over to the Diggorys dear." He blushed and Cho tried refuse but Molly over-ruled her, "Nonsense, it's dark and you can never be too careful."

"I would be happy to," Percy placated and held the door open for her. They walked out into the growing night and through the yard.

They passed George and Angelina who were saying a private goodbye at the fence, which they tactfully ignored.

"Sorry about mum," he said a little woefully holding up his wand to light the path.

"It's all right" she though about it and looked at him, "Is there something going on with you and Penelope?"

"I told mum and she completely overreacted," he threw his hands up in the air.

Penelope was a friend and she was fairly sure she knew where this was going, "What did you tell her?"

"I've noticed that Penny's been getting a little frustrated with me about little things. Like when I went and bought a new cauldron stand she kept asking me if it was _our_ cauldron stand," his voice got a little higher, "I told her she could use it if she needed it and she blew up and wouldn't speak to me for hours. I haven't got a clue what's going on."

"No you haven't," she tried to keep herself from laughing but it was of no use.

"Oh great," he replied grumpily stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Percy," she giggled, "I'm sorry, it's just amazing really. Just a small thing."

"What? What is it Cho? I'm going out of my head." The poor red-head looked miserable, she had never seen him so ruffled. They had reached the Diggorys house and she leaned against the fence, "Are you absolutely sure you want to fix it?"

"One-hundred percent," he looked hopeful.

"She wants you to make a purchase."

"A purchase, purchase of what?"

"A certain symbolic purchase…" He looked confused and then realization dawned, he slowly sat down on the grass as the pieces clicked together.

"I'm fairly certain," Cho said reassuringly, "It's been what, eight years?"

"Ten," he whispered, "In a couple of months."

"And soon," she said quickly patting him on the head.

"Right."

"I'll see you later Percy," she left him on the grass mulling over the enormous change in his life which she was fairly certain had been Molly Weasley's plan from the beginning. She knocked on the door and was greeted by Martha Diggory with a hug.

"We've been expecting you," she said warmly drawing her into the house, "Amos is in the parlor with my nephew and little junior, I've just put the kettle on."

She steered her into the cozy room, "I think you know Draco from school," she said smiling when they were face to face, he saw the shock fly over her features like a startled pigeon, "his father is my cousin."

Malfoy hastily covered the silence, "Yes Cho and I were both Seekers for our house Quidditch teams."

She nodded along while the vague memory of Cedric mentioning something about being related to the Malfoys began to surface. Her attention was caught by the sight of the dark-haired little boy flipping the pages of a picture book on the carpet, she crouched down to greet him, "What are you reading there little guy?"

Little Amos looked up at her with large grey eyes and informed her solemnly, "I'm not reading Aunt Cho, there are no words in this book, but the pictures move."

Over her head she heard Mr. Diggory and Draco talking about their rival Quidditch games.

"Amos Senior come help me with the tea tray," Martha called from the kitchen. Her heart sank a little as the older gentleman excused himself.

"Come on kiddo," she picked up Amos and his book and sat down with him in an armchair.

"You're using a three year old as a shield?" Draco's amusement hit its mark.

"A very precocious three year old," she corrected, looking over the boy's head at him wondering what to do. Draco sat down across from them, "I'm not really sure we've ever exchanged small talk."

"That's true, not a lot of civil small talk anyway, I remember you shouting at me to stop blocking you on the pitch," he offered.

She laughed, "There is that." Some of the tension ebbed away, "I just played Quidditch this afternoon over at the Weasleys."

"I haven't been in a match in years," he replied a little wistfully. She started to tell him the details of the match acutely aware that Martha was listening at the door of the kitchen.

They served the tea and talked for an hour or so until Amos drifted to sleep against her shoulder. The older couple bid them goodnight and went to put their grandson to bed.

Cho and Draco let themselves out of the house and walked down the front of the to the gate. The initial shock of seeing him had left; it was strange to be in his company after sharing only the briefest of acquaintanceships and knowing so much of the history.

"You put on a good show in there."

She looked at him, "I only played along."

"I'm surprised you didn't ask any questions."

She frowned with mock confusion, "Is there a tactful way to bring up exile and Lord Voldemort in front of a three-year old and his grandparents?"

He chuckled. It struck her that she had made him laugh a number of times in the evening, _how is one supposed to feel about amusing a former Death Eater?_ she wondered.

Draco checked his watch, "It's five minutes till, you can ask me anything you like."

She looked at him; years of evidence stacked high against him contradicted the Draco Malfoy she'd spent an hour with.

He started to feel uncomfortable under her gaze, it seemed like she was reading him, he briefly wondered about employing Occlumency.

"Why play the part?" she asked him suddenly.

He breathed an involuntary sigh of relief, "Fake it till you make it," he smiled vaguely, "I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Good answer," she pulled out her wand to Disapparate, "Goodnight Malfoy."

ooo

It was Sunday afternoon when Cho ventured out into Muggle London again, she walked through the streets comfortable with the world of people that was rushing by. It was interesting to recognize the wizards among the muggles, they usually wore outdated or ever so slightly inappropriate clothes. They were oblivious to the looks that they got, smug about how well they were fitting in. Her ribs were still sore from the Quaffle hit and they were developing a purplish green bruise, and her muscles burned from the near acrobatics she had pulled off on her broom. Cho tugged her warm black coat more tightly around her frame and leaned out of the wind. She turned down a side street and saw that Marietta was waiting for her The Leaky Cauldron when she arrived. Cho marveled at the place, it defied all standards of cleanliness. She was fairly certain that the crooked barstools were a permanent fixture and briefly wondered if Tom had bought them that way to add to the general rundown air.

"You're here!" her friend paid for her untouched tea and walked out the back door, Cho followed giving Tom a polite nod in exchange for his grin. They entered Diagon Alley intent on buying dress robes for St. Mungo's Annual Winter Charity Ball.

"I've got a little tidbit of gossip you'd like to hear," Cho told her conspiratorially as they walked to Malkins.

Predictably Marietta's interest was piqued, her eyes shone a little, "What?"

"You're so easy to get Mimi," Cho clucked as they entered the shop.

"I know there's something," the girl honed in, "you have that face on."

"I do not have a face." She protested lightly wondering if she was really that obvious.

"There it goes again! You know something, spill!" her excitement caused the other browsers to give them dirty looks, Marietta ignored them and plunged on, "you haven't been keeping this for that long, we had a Floo-chat on Friday, so something happened yesterday." The brunette searched her friend's face for confirmation, "At the Weasley's."

Cho gave her friend a noncommittal shrug and browsed through a few floor-length gowns letting her fingers run through the satin, "Aren't we here to look for dresses?" she asked innocently.

Marietta protested, every fiber of her being was now fully committed to wrangling out the truth; it was something that made her an excellent reporter, less convenient as a friend. She asked about each of the Weasleys she could think of and Cho deftly maneuvered out of her tricky sentence structure trying to keep a poker face.

A nervous attendant approached them, "Excuse me ladies, would you like to be fitted for anything?"

"We're just browsing," Marietta demurred.

"Would you mind browsing a little less loudly?" she asked timidly, "Madame has a very important customer in."

Cho could sense Marietta slicing up a piece of her mind to serve Madame so she spoke up quickly, "Yes, we were actually just leaving, thank you, have a nice day." She pulled Marietta out of the shop. "Alright already, you win," she held up her hands in defeat.

Marietta's eyes sparkled, "What is it then?"

She drew Marietta away from any prying ears, "I'm fairly certain that our dear friend Penelope will soon be a Clearwater no more."

The reporter let out a whoop that left Cho's ears ringing. They sat down a table, "Tell me."

Cho relayed the particulars of her conversation with Percy, she laughed with her at Percy's description of their fight. "Utterly clueless he's been," she was shaking her head, "she's been leaving him hints for the last four years. I went to lunch with her the other day and she was practically breaking down from the stress."

"Why didn't she just tell him?" Cho wondered perplexedly.

Marietta gave her a look, "She's a romantic at heart, pragmatic to a fault with everything else but she couldn't break the rule."

"The rule is ridiculous," Cho huffed, "we live in a brave new world, waiting for Percy Weasley to figure out a proposal from cauldron bickering is like waiting for the sun to rise in the west."

Marietta shrugged, "That's the way it works in most wizarding circles, you know that."

"Poor Percy, I left him outside of the Diggory's completely senseless."

Marietta sensed the topic winding down so she broke into the new one, "How was your visit with them? How's little Amos doing?"

"He's alright, still quiet. After everything that's happened I'm not surprised," Cho wasn't sure how much to say.

"Does he understand it?"

She could feel the subject shifting into a more curious vein, Marietta couldn't help it, "I think he's very bright, to be honest he might understand more of it than we could possibly know." She decided to throw out another bit of news, "Something else happened last night though."

Her friend jumped on the new supply of information without prying more into the Diggory subject; she had always been careful about the past.

ooo

"She's probably your best shot," Blaise told Draco as he decided on the next move for his pawn. They were playing Wizard's Chess in the garden of Malfoy Manor.

"Well thanks, I'll be sure to use that turn of phrase when I tell her," Draco replied dryly, "It should really up my odds of landing this suicidal thestral." He frowned at the dwindling number of his pieces on the board, "Make your move already."

"You're the one who cares so much," Blaise responded nudging the piece forward, "I still don't get it."  
"Well your father's name isn't synonymous with the greatest genocide of our age."

"Well mostly because he's dead," Zabini grinned, "Zabini is only synonymous with filthy rich." This was doubly true; Zabini now worked in a firm for the International Confederation of Wizards.

"And you're not remotely ashamed of that fact," Draco mused directing his knight to kill the white rook.

"Gotcha!" his opponent cried as his white queen made an unrepentant beeline for the now exposed black king whacking him over the head with her crown and felling him. Draco winced on behalf of his piece, "Congratulations."

"I couldn't have done it without you," Zabini was shameless, "You're not going to be able to fool her, you know. It'll be harder."

Draco had acknowledged this fact, "But a lot more convincing if she agrees to it." He rose from the chess table and stretched, "I've got an appointment for a new wand at Ollivanders and Mum wants me to meet her for tea after her dress fitting."

Blaise smirked, "Tea with your mum?"

"She knows something's up," Draco grimaced, "I've got to move out of this place."

Blaise shook his head at his friend's state, "One of the flats we use for foreign wizards on Critik Alley is going to be open for a few months."

Draco gave his friend a look of undying gratitude, "I owe you."

"I have a feeling I'm going to be hearing that a lot, I'll owl you with the information." Zabini pulled out his wand to Disapparate.

"I've got to use the Floo in the Manor," Draco said sheepishly, "no wand."

"See you around." Blaise Disapparated and Draco walked back through the garden to the Manor, he passed the fountain where someone had thrown wet-start fireworks on the night of their return. After a bit of elf magic the fountain was back to normal but he would never forget the look on his father's face as an enormous white ferret lit up the carefully manicured topiary garden followed by a succession of other creatures finally ending with a curling script: _brought to you by WWW always pleased to entertain_. The joke shop business was clearly lucrative, in the face of its artistry the implied jab was almost forgiven, he wondered if the Weasley's would consider him as an investor, _maybe anonymously_.

He let himself into the Manor and headed for the nearest fireplace snagging his bag of coins, it was a relief to finally regain possession of a wand. Painstakingly he lit a fire in the grate with a muggle match and tinder he threw the green powder on the flames and they roared to life turning green, he shut his eyes and jumped yelling, "Diagon Alley!"

He tumbled out of the fireplace at Flourish and Blotts covered in soot and mentally congratulated himself on the foresight of wearing a grey knit shirt that completely camouflaged his state. The last thing he needed was for people to wonder why a twenty-one year old wizard was traveling by Floo. He brushed the soot off as best as he could and moved out through the shelves of books. Flourish and Blotts opened out on the center of the Alley, Ollivanders was only a few doors down.

As he walked to the wand shop a few people glanced at him with burgeoning recognition but he moved past them to quickly for them to fully register his identity. He ducked into the dusty shop and was quickly taken aback. He let the door close and heard the bell tinkle in the background. The shop was almost entirely empty, he recalled that he'd had to make an appointment but he didn't understand the bare shelves that used to house hundreds if not thousands of wands. There were only a few slim boxes on the shelves now.

He felt realization creep over him as he heard a voice in the back call, "Coming." Death-Eaters had destroyed the wand-shop and closed it down to keep muggle-borns from buying wands.

Suddenly the prospect of getting a wand paled in comparison to coming face to face with Ollivander, dread crept into the pit of his stomach as the sound of screams echoed out of the past. He backed himself against the wall as he heard the approach of the voice's owner.

A frizzy blonde witch took her place behind the counter, "And you are?" She was looking in an appointment book but Draco could tell from her manner that she already knew exactly whom she was addressing.

He played along using the polite façade to drum up his courage, "Draco Malfoy, I'm here to see Ollivander about a new wand."

She looked sharply at him, "Mr. Ollivander only handles the shop in summer now, before school starts, I look after it in his absence, Ariana Bluebottle."

He reached forward to shake her hand, she paused before accepting, "Pleased to meet you."

She responded by pulling out the boxes of wands, disapproval colored each of her looks in his direction even if she tried to hide it.

"Try this one," she said shoving a wand forward.

It was a far cry from his first visit to Ollivander's but he could understand it. He opened the box and drew out a long willowy wand, a card in the box read _unicorn hair 11 inches_ in a wispy script.

He flicked it at the cushion on the stool, a crack resounded in the shop and pain lanced through his hand and entire arm, the wand clattered to the floor and he looked at his palm, it was red, it looked as though it had been burned where he held the wand.

Ariana's face temporarily lost its expression of disapproval and was covered in shock, "I've never seen that before."

Draco gingerly picked up the wand and placed it back in the box, "Maybe one like my old wand, ten inches, hawthorn, unicorn hair," he tried for a bit of humor, "doesn't burn its wielders."

The joke fell poorly, "We have what we have, try another one."

He repeated the exercise with unvarying results, panic and fear started building, he could barely pick up the sixth one when the witch cried, "Stop!"

"I'm not going to watch you burn yourself anymore, Merlin's balls, you've got a death wish." She yanked the boxes away from him.

"What am I supposed to do?" he retorted, holding his agonized hand, he could feel a poorly banked flood of anger forming in him, all he wanted to do was get out of the shop, "Where's Ollivander?"

She threw up her hands, "I don't know!" she started stacking the wands back on the shelves.

"What do you mean you don't know?!" he bore down on the anger in order to ask more calmly, "Is he at his home?"

The witch looked at him incredulously, "Wand-making is his life; he lived above the shop before."

"And now?"

"He's protected isn't he? Somewhere safe from—," she trailed off.

Draco sighed, "I see, thank you." He rubbed his temples, "And you know, thanks for not being afraid of me."

She raised an eyebrow, "I wasn't exactly nice."

"Cold-shoulder is easier to deal with than scared."

Bluebottle seemed to relent just a bit, "Wait a moment, I've got a bit of Dittany in the back."

"Thanks," he laid his palm on the counter and she returned with a little clay jar.

"I don't want anyone to think our wands are faulty," she said grumpily applying it to the glaring redness. As the cool drops met flesh the pain started to dissipate.

She closed the jar and bustled around brusquely, "Here's some gauze, I've got to tend to some business; you can see yourself out."

Her manner didn't bother him; he wrapped his hand in the white strip feeling the Dittany healing his skin, he was more worried about the reaction from the wands. What did this mean? Would he ever be able to reclaim the use of magic?

Narcissa was waiting for him at the tea parlor on Fine Alley. She was already seated within being served something herbal and soothing judging by the smell, a plate of petite scones crowned the table.

"Mint," he requested from the staring waiter who bobbed his head unable to actually vocalize his assent.

Narcissa waited until the man was gone before she asked, "What happened to your hand?"

He paused trying to decide how he wanted her to hear this particular news, he finally gave her a clinical account leaving out any details about the witch or her manner.

Narcissa pursed her lips, "And how are you going to resolve this?"

"I think I need to find Ollivander, although I'm not altogether sure he would be willing to help me."

"We'll see about that."

Draco sighed, his mother gave up on absolutely nothing, "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

She gave him a piercing look but the nervous waiter returned and was pouring Draco's tea, he thanked him and was given another head bob.

"I suppose you think you've been secretive," she started sharply, "but you are utterly transparent and I don't approve."

"That's the wonderful thing about me being an adult now, you don't have to approve." He studied the inside of his cup, and she continued, "And whom have you laid these plans for?"

"I haven't decided yet, an old schoolmate I think," he bit into a scone to cover up the half-truth and changed the subject, "Blaise offered me a flat on Critik."

His mother arched a pale eyebrow.

"It's for a few months, to get some fresh air, a little perspective."

"Oh really?" she went along in a conversational tone, "Do you know who I saw in Madame Malkins today?"

He felt relief that she'd accepted the news about the flat so casually, he humored her, "Who?" he asked sipping on his tea.

"That reporter, the one who wrote the article about our ceremony. She was with that Ravenclaw Seeker, the pretty one, who dated the Diggory boy."

He swore, choked and spilled the semi-scalding liquid on his freshly healed hand.

"Is something the matter dear?" she asked blinking with falsely innocent concern.

000

Hello there, I'm having fun diving into Rowling's world, I have so much respect for all the detail she adds, I'm on a super nerd fest with this story. I hope you're having fun I've made some edits to chapter one and I'll probably fix up a few things here in the coming days but I really wanted to get through some of this so the rest of my ideas can come through. ttfn


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